All This Time
by Desi
Summary: Aoshi's thoughts and memories


Disclaimers: yes

This was written in a hurry last night, I have not even read through it so I hope there are not too many errors and more importantly it actually makes sense. 

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That time was like never, and like always.

So we go there, where nothing is waiting;

We find everything waiting there. _- Neruda_.

"Won't you please reconsider Aoshi…" Her voice was low, almost a whisper, her tone was pleading. She lowered her chin and raised her eyes to his, her gaze innocent and demure, her brows creased in a distressed frown, as she paused, briefly, for emphasis before continuing. "…Sama."

Deliberate provocation. 

Aoshi stood silently and watched her performance with narrowed eyes. He knew this game well, as did she. It was _his_ answer that dictated the outcome and as always, he would take his time supplying her with an answer, for watching her reach the end of her patience was half the pleasure. He contemplated telling her yes; she would award him instantly with her beaming smile as she danced about, elated that he had conceded. She could proclaim her victory and the game would be over. Then again, he could answer her in the negative, for it was almost just as gratifying to see her momentarily silenced with shocked disbelief that he had refused her, quickly followed by her eyes flashing bright with determination, then the real fun would begin. She would set about using every trick, every stratagem known to humankind and possibly a few, known only to her, refusing to acquiesce until he agreed. The thought nearly made him smile.

She honestly should have figured the whole thing out by now and Aoshi was astonished that, bright as she is, she had not done so. Did she really have no idea that no matter what _his_ answer, _she_ was always the victor? How could she be anything but, when her mood, her smile, her expression dictated his every action? Whatever answer he gave was merely for the purpose of watching her reaction to it. It had always been this way with them, even as a child she had commanded his actions. 

***

"Aoshi-sama?" He stopped and turned at the sound of the small voice that whispered from down the hall.

"You should not be awake at this hour Misao." He kept his voice low barely above a whisper, hoping that she would return to her room, to her innocent dreams. He would not tell her, he would send one of the women in to tell her. At fifteen, he was definitely the person, within the folds of the Oniwabanshu, that was closest to her own age but he was also the Okashira, it was not his place, he would send one of the women to explain what had happened. He turned on his heel and resumed his course in the opposite direction of the little girl that had called for him.

"Where is Ojiisan?" He stiffened at her question and halting his steps he turned toward her once more. "I cannot find him and no one will tell me where he is?"

She looked so much smaller than she had the previous morning before he left. She'd always been a petite child but now, in the darkened, empty hallway, with the silence of death in the air, she seemed smaller. He felt the invisible tether tighten, pulling him to her. Aoshi walked back to where she waited and knelt in front of her. He had shared her grandfather's wish that the Oniwabanshu, the harsh reality of what they were, would never touch her. Looking into her big, innocent eyes that watched him, he could see that she knew, something was wrong, something had happened and her life would never be the same. That night had made his wish futile, he had no choice but to tell her.

"Come." He whispered opening his arms to her. Without hesitation she stepped into them, he climbed to his feet, holding her against his hip, one arm supporting her, while both of hers encircled his neck. They moved through the silent hallway to his room. 

He remembered the feeling of déjà vu regarding that night, several years later, when she approached him about Hannya and the others. Although she already knew what happened to them, having been told by Koaru and Yahiko, she seemed to need more and who better to ask than the very person that was with them from beginning to end. One night, she had waited in the darkened hallway and called to him as he walked by. He had ignored her at first, stopping when she voiced her straightforward demand.

"Where are they?" He could hear the desperation in her voice; it mirrored the same that he'd felt in his heart. He turned back to face her and because she was no longer that child, she had not waited down the hall for him, she had taken the initiative and approached him. Looking into her wide, blue eyes that remained steadfast and did not falter, he could see that she had already accepted what she could not change, accepted that her life would never be the same. She walked beside him through the silent hallway to his room. He did not hold her in his arms and comfort her when he talked of their friends, as he had when she was a child and he'd explained to her about her grandfather. But he had wanted to… Kami-sama knew how desperately he had wanted to. It was not for her comfort but for his own. He had watched the occasional nod her bowed head; her face obscured by the curtain of her hair did nothing to hide her silent tears. He had felt every one of them; like hot, melted, wax on his skin, he had felt them.

***

"Aoshi-sama…" He had heard that called from the opposite side of the closed shoji all day, from his first in command, the courier, the servant bringing food, and he had ignored them all. But at the sound of a quiet, tear-filled whisper, Aoshi put his paperwork aside, climbed to his feet and walked to the shoji. Sliding the door aside he looked down and took in the sleep tousled hair and tear streaked face of Misao. She looked as though she'd been crying for quite some time, her face was red and blotchy, her eyes swollen. He knelt down in front of her, brushing her unruly hair back behind her shoulders.

"Misao, dooshite?" He asked her what was wrong and as if his question was some sort of trigger she began to sob, he gathered her in his arms and held her for several moments, gently stroking her hair on the back of her head. He was surprised to say the least, although he'd witnessed this behavior from her on numerous occasions after the death of her grandfather, but she had not awaken in this manner for at least three months. He was puzzled over what could have provoked it.

"Hannya… Hannya didn't come back." She finally managed to choke out. He picked her up and carried her slight frame into his room. Letting her sniffle into his uniform, hearing her nearly in-coherent theories of what could possibly have befallen him and then, silence filled the room.

"Hannya left just like Ojiisan, didn't he?" Her voice was clear, like the coldest night in winter, not at all like a child and the silence in his room became even more still.

"Of course not Misao." Aoshi explained as he set her down and signaled for her to climb beneath the cover on his futon. She did without question and as she lay her head back, her large blue eyes stared. "He will be home by morning."

As if his words controlled the destiny and fate of her world, Misao smiled. Almost immediately after, her eyes began to grow heavy and Aoshi sat next to her until she fell asleep. He watched her soft face in repose and prayed that nothing would befall Hannya that night. If it did, Aoshi would follow him to the depths of hell and drag him back with his own hands, all by morning. 

***

"Misao." Aoshi glanced down to where she stood, her fingers gripping tightly to Hanyaa's fingers. She glanced up and met his eyes and he waved her forward. She let go of Hanyaa, although he could tell that she would rather not, and moved to stand beside him, willing but not ready to be introduced to the strangers that now stood before her. "This man was friends with your grandfather, his name is Okina."

It had been several years since the death of her grandfather and Aoshi knew that although she could recall that she was fond of his former Okashira, at eight-years old she could barely recall any of the experiences she'd shared with the old man when she was three. 

"Misao-chan?" Okina boisterously shouted in disbelief. "Why this grown up young lady cannot possibly be Misao-chan!"

Okina moved closer to her and bent down to get a better look at Misao, unfortunately the rest of the former Oniwabanshu spies moved closer as well. They also began, almost as boisterous as Okina, teasing and fussing over her and Misao shyly, retreated behind him. The feel of her slight, wiry arms clinging tightly to his leg, seeking protection, knowing he would provide it. He could feel his heart twist at what he intended to do. She trusted him, he had always been there for her but tomorrow night, he would disappear from her life without a word. He hated to think of how betrayed she would feel when she woke up and discovered they were gone. It as for her own good however, their lifestyle was too dangerous to involve children in it. His biggest fear was that she would become the target of revenge against him and that he could not bear. 

She had confessed to him only recently, just how angry and resentful she had been at his leaving her behind. However, before long she realized how unhealthy it was to cling to that anger. She made up her mind that it was more important to remember what they had shared together than what they wouldn't. She also knew without a doubt that they would not be apart forever, that they would find each other again. She was right. Although their initial meeting after so many years was not one that he was particularly pleased with, or ever cared to remember, his heart could not remain closed from her for long, she was too much a part of him, she had always been. As she grew older and changed from a girl to a woman, _what_ he felt had not changed, although, _how_ he felt it certainly did.

Aoshi reached out one hand and placed it against her cheek, his thumb moving lightly back and forth against her skin. He lifted his other hand, placed it on the other side and stepped closer. He could see the triumph in her eyes, accompanied by her growing smile. It looked as though he was going to end the game quickly tonight. He felt her arms go around his waist and like always, it was as if the delicious effects of swallowing warm sake were spreading through him. 

"How can I refuse such a request from my beautiful wife." He whispered before pressing his lips against her own. "I will do as you ask."

"It can't be that bad can it?" She asked after catching her breath. "Time alone, cuddling with me as opposed to visiting that old temple?"

He smiled and kissed her again before allowing her to lead him back to their room. They were not under the cover for more than a few minutes when the sound of pounding feet could be heard. Aoshi chuckled lightly as Misao's cursed, then the pounding feet stopped, their door was flung wide and one sleep tousled, two year old, ball of energy came bounding in the room and on top of them.

Hearing his daughter's laughter as he played with her and Misao's laughter as she watched him filled him with another sensation, not like warm sake. It was like the falling asleep under the blooming sakura trees. The combination of the warm spring sunshine mixed with the softly falling sakura petals on your skin; tranquil, delicate and perfect.


End file.
